Wednesday, 19 August 2009

FUCK THE ENGLISH!

I swear to God, I felt like Harry Potter going through the barrier on platform 9 3/4. There I'd been on the A74(M) and as it turned into the M6 and I arrived in England, a whole sea of other cars suddenly materialised out of nowhere.

And they were all cock-sucking motherfuckers. Especially the cuntwaft in the Jewish Racing Gold Mitsubishi Colt CC, who could see another car on the horizon and would not get out of the right-hand lane until he passed it, three fucking days later. And his fucking family were all out on the road too.

The absolute highlight of the day was the fat old munter in the white van, who decided that my indications that I wanted to get past her old shitheap merited giving me the finger, along with a whole bunch of verbal as I passed her when she eventually deigned to get out of the way. She kept pointing at her steering wheel or something, I'm guessing she was trying to tell me not to speed.

Well. Here's the thing, see? I have a satnav, and it gives me a more accurate speed reading than the speedometer in your shitty old rustbucket Ford Transit. And the real issue here is that you arrogantly sat in the overtaking lane for 15 miles TRAVELLING AT FUCKING 65 MILES PER HOUR IN A DUAL CARRIAGEWAY NATIONAL SPEED LIMIT, YOU DAFT FUCKING MOOSE!!!

THE rule of the road is "Keep Left". Even if your speedo reading gives you a massive rush of cuntjuice to the brain, it's still "keep left". you fat old fucking harridan.

37 comments:

It's at its worst as soon as you cross the bridge into Wales. Seriously. Part of it I think is because of the stupid design of the M4 on the Welsh side whereby Lane 1 spends half it's time being a sliproad for junctions (rather than an extra sliproad branching off it) so people just get used to sitting in lanes 2 and 3. Fucking annoying though.

Incidentally, a transit is limited to 50 on single carriageway, 60 on dual and 70 on motorway - an old colleague found this out the less pleasant way. However I don't wish to take away from your wholly justified rant; there is a distinct difference in driving styles from one side of the border to the other, the worst of which, the further south you drive the more often and longer that lorry drivers feel it is necessary to overtake another equally slow lorry, To then sit in the overtaking lane. In 3rd gear. On an incline if possible. Is there an unwritten rule to pull out in front of you at the last possible minute when you're traveling at twice their speed, causing a frantic application of the brakes, panicked looks in the rear mirror and only prayers stopping that guy behind from driving straight through the back of your head? I reserve a certain level of hatred for these morons. Then there's the inevitable pathetic whine that they have to, they've got to make their time, it's also why they don't pull over on a single carriage way because it might take a few extra minutes to get up to speed again - well boohoo! Kings of the road my arse.Yes it is an overtaking lane, not a slow the entire traffic on the road to a near standstill lane - also clearly a lot of drivers haven't spent much time abroad where driving isn't hindered by the British affliction for queuing; where if you haven't moved over immediately, the sight in your rear mirror of a Maserati with all lights flashing and traveling at twice the speed of any limit in this country and no intention of slowing is a good reminder. I retain another level of hatred for Maserati drivers.I have to say that London drivers, before anyone insecure and pathetic enough to accuse me of any anti-english sentiments, in my experience have been amongst the most courteous I have shared the road, but hey, there's good and bad drivers everywhere.

wv: sescleni - with a wave of the hand that's what you say when you've overtaken someone in Italy. Not.

There was is minding my fucking business when this pale faced cunting clown with ginger tufts, an alkies nose and fucked up teeth comes sliding up behind me. Of course i'm going to slow the wanker down he scared the kids shitless and reduced the wife to a monosyllabic gibbering wreck......fuck me the peace was tranquility itself.

Oh, and my mother-in-law following in the white van was gesturing for you to go down on her you dumb fuck, she has a soft spot for ginger cross dressing window lickers..........

I can see why you don't post your picture. You are obviously one of these dwarfish, rat-faced, pock-marked urban jocks of the 'trainspotting' variety. Having come to England at about age 8 as a rent-boy peddling your arsehole to rich arabs in London, you've decided to stay and be a parasite on the folk of your adopted land. Occasionally you spew out Robbie Burns type whinings about your betters - talk about a chip on your (rounded) shoulders, jimmie!

How we long for Scottish independence, so you and your low-life socialist countrymen can be deported back to your caves, bothies and tower-blocks, or, if you choose to stay, face a short and painful life being worked to death in a labour camp for fellow sub-humans.

Well "a non muse" (seems like a spot on name to me), on behalf of Maserati drivers everywhere, let me encourage you to be a bigger man and get over your envy. I can understand you might like to hold me there two seconds to savour the beauty in your rear view mirror, but then you should reflect that the back of the car looks just as good and take steps to enjoy that view too.